Untitled
by Orokid
Summary: When something shakes a woman into selfdestruction, what are the reasons?
1. Holes

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or it's character. If I did, I would have gotten Harry and Hermione together in book six instead of him and Ginny (shudders) **

**orokid: Okay… I got the idea for this story when I had been listening to the song "Holes" by Rascal Flatts, off their album _Feels Like Today_. Let me sat this now- this is _not_ a songfic! This is an idea contrived from a song, without the lyrics in the writing. Also, if people like this, I might write more. I've been thinking of keeping this as a one-shot, but… who knows.**

**Untitled**

_Holes_

The room was in ruins.

Books had been torn and thrown all over, pulled from their respective shelves like an infant being pulled from his mother's nipple while suckling. The glass from pictures seemed to be all over on the floor, beaten and deserted pictures left where they had fallen. Feathers from a destroyed pillow or two laid gently atop the already fallen debris, the cases laying where they had been dropped and forgotten. Lamps had been toppled over and destroyed as soon as they hit the stone cold floor, along with the remains of what looked like drink glasses, indents on the walls where they had hit before being shattered.

If one had entered this room, would they believe that a girl of eighteen actually lives in this room?

In a corner of the war zone, you could probably make out the figure of a young woman. She was scrunched up against the only clean and clear space, holding herself close, her bushy, unkempt hair hiding her obvious tear-stained face and cracked red eyes. Her feet were only mere inches away from the broken glass, sharpened only by the force in which she had thrown them. It just wasn't safe to move from that spot.

The girl was shaking, probably crying her eyes about something or another still.

The phone rang, but she did nothing to answer it, continuing her cry inside her little space. Soon, the answering machine had taken it to messaging.

"'Mione… I know you're there," the voice began, pausing in hopes that the young woman in the room would pick up the phone. She had barely recognized the voice, and she had lifted her head up slightly to listen, tears of sorrow falling down her face. "'Mione, we're your friends. Ginny's been awfully worried about you ever since you disappeared, and… so am I. Pick up." He paused once more, still ever hopeful that she'd come to her senses and answer him this once. "Look, we're all really sad about it. Mum and Ginny haven't been the same since we heard. I doubt anyone who really knew him has been the same." The owner of the voice sighed, obviously not enjoying the subject he had found himself talking about.

"You know you don't have to hide it anymore, Hermione," the young man on the other end told her abruptly, causing her to raise her head even just a little bit more, wanting to know just what he was telling her not to hide anymore. She could tell that he was nervous talking about it, and he wasn't too comfortable about the subject either. "You're… You were in love with him." Tears came to her eyes as she thought about 'him' they were talking about, only to cuddle herself up into her lonesome once more, holding herself away from the pain that was pounding on her already aching heart. "You… You were. We all knew it, but… I didn't want to admit it back then because I wanted to be the guy you gave your heart to. But… I realize now that… he needed love more than anything." The man on the other end breathed into the receiver sadly, but the only one she could imagine was 'him', his broken body, his lifeless eyes…

He was right. She had been in love with him. Truly. Madly. Deeply.

"Pick up, Hermione," the young man pleaded with her, hating that he was being recorded and not heard out. "He's dead and gone! Why can't you just see that?" The man was obviously frustrated with her and her unwillingness to listen.

Her eyes moved to the flat walls, where three holes had been punctured. They were old sights- things she had meant to repair but never got around to- but… they were one of the last things he had done out of hatred, pain, desperation, sadness… She just couldn't get rid of the memory of the young man who had been lost in the war against evil.

Just like those holes in the wall, there were holes in her heart as well, too big to heal.

She could remember the day before his end as if it were yesterday, and that was what she held onto more than ever now. It was her best memory yet, and it had only happened the day before the final battle had begun…

_Emerald stared into chocolate, their hands entwined, holding each other they could in their sideways position. They had gotten together secretly, all the while under the eyes of their jealous best friend that would probably freak out if he knew, not to mention the whole wizarding world who loved to watch the man she loved though newspapers around the universe._

_He'd chuckle as he'd stare into her eyes, and that would only make her giggle in return. If anyone knew the truth, that THE Hermione Granger could actually giggle, half the school would stare at her in complete and utter shock._

_The green eyed boy gently gliding his knuckles across her cheek, grinning like a fool. Hermione leaned in slightly, moving her body even closer to his, his eyes switching between the emerald pools that she felt like she could drown in and the lips she wanted so much to melt in, know she would because she already did so, every time they'd touch. He too moved closer, their lips connecting to hers, and they'd fall into each other as they shared a sweet, slow, passionate kiss._

_Hesitantly, he pulled away from her, clearly wishing that his body didn't need oxygen to live or breathe. The young man grinned wider, kissing her eyelids softly._

_It was more than obvious that they were in love._

"_The end is coming, you know," he stated softly into her hair, bushy yet beautiful, the moonlight shining upon it in quite a wonderful way, causing her to be even more beautiful to him. Their sweet and innocent scene had ended, and a solemn silence overcame their love. "There's a chance that… that I-"_

"_Don't say it," she ordered him strongly, not wanting to hear about her worst fear. "Don't say it, Harry. You're not going to, so you shouldn't say such lies."_

_The raven haired young man stayed silent for a long moment, holding his beloved in his arms as her fears for the future mounted. He sighed softly, pulling her in closer to him, feeling her there in his warm and alive arms. "I'm just trying to he cautious, 'Mione," he whispered softly into her ear, closing his eyes as images of former battles floated in his mind. "If I-"_

"_You're not going to, so don't tell me that you will." Tears were gathering in her eyes as she stared at his chest, afraid that he'd see just how scared she actually was about the probability of his demise._

_He kissed her forehead, trying to calm her, knowing of her tears even if she refused to show him to his face. "Better safe than sorry, you know?" He placed a gentle hand underneath her chin, making her look him in the eyes even if she didn't want to. He needed her to know. "If I die, promise me that you'll move on."_

_She gazed at her lover in shock, tears falling down her face as emerald watched chocolate. Why was he doing this? Why did he push the subject so much? Didn't he know how much it scared her to loose him? "How can you ask me to move on? I love you, and there isn't anyone that could ever make me feel like this. If you die… I don't know what I'd do. I can't move on after loosing you."_

"_But you have to." He sighed, pulling away from the embrace they had been laying in, standing up, his back to her. He ran a hand through his beautiful ebony hair, and she only wished that she could've done the same for him. She liked the feel of his silky hair. "There's a chance that I might have to leave your side, that I might die along with all the other casualties of this bloody war. I can't… I can't go unless you promise that you'll try to move on from me."_

"_Then don't," she pleaded with him softly, sitting up from the bed they had been laying on, holding each other. She carefully got up from her spot, moving over to the young man, taking him in a soft and loving hug from behind. "We'll make it through, and… and then we can be together. We'll make little Harrys to run all over the place and explore, and little Hermiones that will go off and read at any moment they can. We… We'll have a life together, like we've dreamed about." Tears fell from her eyes, right into the back of his shirt. His hands moved over her arms, pressing them against him, having her hug him a little harder than she had been. "You can't ask that from me, Harry. I- I can't exist wholly without you here with me. You're all I need. Every book in the world couldn't ever add up to you, and there isn't a way I could ever move on from you. I… I love you too much!" She sobbed harder into his back, clutching tightly to his waist. "Do… Do you want me to lie?"_

_For a moment, he stayed silent, his heart breaking from the words she was saying. He sighed, lowering his eyes. "Can I say yes?" He wanted to hear her promise that she'd move on, even if she didn't. To hear it was enough._

_Besides, he planned on living so to make all those promises he had made to her the truth, and not just some empty promises a dead man makes to his beloved._

_Hermione said nothing, still holding tight to the man who would one day be hers and hers alone, her breaths somewhat stabling as she tried to conquer her tears. He heard her inhale deeply, shakily, readying to speak the he knew she would. "F-Fine. Then I… I will try to move on if… if you die."_

_The emerald eyed man couldn't help but notice how she had left out the word 'promise' and added in the words 'will try to' instead. Still, he'd have to take it. He knew that his bushy haired lover wouldn't budge from that answer._

_Harry turned around, wrapping her into his strong arms, holding her as if this might be the last time he could. She needed his touch, his love right now, more than anything. He knew that he had most likely scared her more than he knew or understood._

"_Promise not to die?"_

_He looked down at her, giving a small and loving smile that he only wore when he was around her. Gently, he kissed her forehead, rocking her and him while he held her tightly. "I'll try not to."_

_The brown haired woman with dark chocolate eyes gave a small smile back, looking deeply into the emerald pools that she'd happily drown in for the rest of her existence. But the feelings within her was definitely not happiness. It was more than that._

_She was afraid. No, terrified._

_She was excited._

_But she was also sad, depressed._

_So many emotions were going through her mind right then, and there wasn't any way that she couldn't feel in such a way. Hermione was terrified that she'd loose the man she loved more than life itself. She wanted to be with him for the rest of their lives, and was excited about the idea of making beautiful children with him._

_But the depression… She didn't truly understand where that came from. The last thing she wanted was to believe was that this feeling was foreboding the future, although she didn't believe that anyone could truly foretell the future and what was to happen._

_But… still…_

_She forced her thoughts back, deciding to not think about what might- no, will never come, knowing that her future consisted of him and some little Harry's._

_Her lips captured his, trying hard not to think about the maybes, her fingers running through his midnight colored hair as he pressed back. She could feel the curve of his smile against her kiss, and both of them knew just where this was going. Her hands attached themselves to his collar, pulling him towards her as she walked backwards, causing them both to fall back onto what had become 'their' bed…_

The liquor bottle beside her toppled over, spilling the inside contents onto the rug she sat upon, still scrunched up in her little space of the room that hadn't yet been demolished. She shuttered, not even noticing it, her heart and mind elsewhere as usual.

She could still feel his warmth, could still feel how his body had felt against hers, how she could feel his heartbeat when she would lay her head on his chest after giving herself to him again and again. Everything felt like such a dream, and it hurt her to wake up to this nightmare day in and day out without her beloved there with her.

The bushy haired young woman only let out a sob, her body tightening so to keep herself closed away from the cruel world that seemed to despise her so.

Her Christian soul seemed to cry with her, the face of the holy-man Jesus Christ transforming into the savior of the wizarding world, his body riddled with green light and his face bleeding where it had when she had found him either dead or dying after the shared blow between both he, Harry, and the evil man that would make the devil himself shutter in fear.

To her, the only savoir she knew existed, who she acknowledged as her true savior, was dead.

She felt like such a fraud, having been unable to protect the only one she had really wished to, and being named one of the three saviors of the world itself. She had done nothing, and yet people kissed the ground she walked on.

They should be praying at his grave rather than writing faux books about his life, singing songs to praise who had what had been lost.

Those people should mourn, just like her.

Hermione put a hand over her mouth, holding back the feeling to upchuck what surely wasn't in her stomach. She needed to calm down, to stop downing the whiskey, or else it would end up hurting her in the future.

But deep inside, she knew that she didn't have alcohol poisoning or the fact that she hadn't been mentally stable ever since her beloved's death, and she doubted that she'd ever be after loosing her soul mate. But that didn't matter right now. All she had to do was breathe and smile until the building endorphins would do it for her, and then she could pretend to be okay again.

And why now did she had a sudden craving for pickles?

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**Please Review!**


	2. What Hurts The Most

**orokid**_: Yeah… you kept saying that I should write another chapter, and I've written about four different beginnings to it anyway so… Here you go! Heh heh… anyway… I know that it's been a while since you all have said that I should, but I don't really think too well when under pressure, and writing more of a perfectly fine story sometimes make it seem worse than better. That's why I've been avoiding it, to tell the truth, but you can see that I could no longer do that. Lol. So… here you go._

**Disclaimer**_: This time, I admit, I got the idea from another Rascal Flatts song that I adore- "What Hurts the Most", found on their album Me And My Gang (it's a really good CD, if you haven't heard any of it). But… yeah… Let me say this again, so not to cause any conflict- this is not a songfic! This is an idea contrived from a song, without the lyrics in the writing._

_PS- If think I have a good ending for this fanfic, but it's most likely going to be put on as a one shot, even if it is to be the epilogue. Truth is, I wrote it before this whole story, and I don't think I should mix and match things like that- and it's only two or three pages in my little writing… So yeah… Moving on! Lol_

**Chapter Two**

_What Hurts the Most_

Rain tapped against the foggy windowpane gently, the room dark and nearly as somber as the outside world, a pair of lifeless chocolate pools staring through the glass with a deep depression no one could ever understand. Not unless they understood the secrets that they held, and that they'd never let go of until the day he would come back to her. The owner of those haunted eyes was lying in her seemingly comfy bed on her side, tears slowly streaming down her face, her skin pale and her body thinning more than it should've been, if at all. She couldn't sleep. All she did was exist in this lonely world, hoping for someone, something, to find her and release her from her pain.

It had been weeks, maybe even a full month, since her so-called friends had appeared in her broken apartment, carrying with them worry and determination to help her out of this nook of depression she had nuzzled herself into. The two red heads- the youngest brother and sister of a family she had become an honorary member of (along with the young man who she mourned for even now)- spent hours and days fixing up the flat she had destroyed on her own. They didn't expect much from her to repay them for their efforts, other than the return of their old friend on confidant.

But even they had to understand that it'd take some time before that would ever happen… if it happened at all, for that matter. She herself felt as though returning to the bright and ever resilient young woman whom everyone loved and cared for wouldn't ever return. Not until he came back to hold her in his arms, to kiss her lips so sweetly like he had during their unknown moments alone before she had lost him forever to the battle against evil, to tell her that he loved her and wanted to rekindle those ideas that they made together, to restart those promises they made to one another to start a life together and bare little children with each of their features and a bit of their partner's.

She wanted him back so bad that it hurt, and her heart was to be forever bleeding until her own death. The young woman was cursed to be alone, to become a spinster, for she knew that her heart and body would reject another man's essence, for they both belonged to someone she could no longer have- for he didn't live anymore, no matter how much she wanted him to.

Life just wasn't fair. Her beloved had kept only one of his many promises, although he hadn't known it back when it had been done, and he wasn't around to see the reward she had been given in his absence. Inside her body, inside her very own womb, was a child that had been conceived during their many nights of love and passion, and she wondered if her unborn baby realized that it was to be born into a fatherless environment, into a woman's life who needed the man that no longer existed on this cursed plane. She felt very silly for even wondering such an unknown question to a being that hadn't existed longer than five or so weeks before this exact time, let alone brought into this sad world.

The distraught young woman felt tears sting her sore eyes as she though of what her lost beloved would say to her because of the situation she currently found herself in. He'd stare at her as if he was trying to determine what she was trying to say to him, as if a riddle had been spoken. Then, his open mouth, which had gone slack at the news, would slowly close and form a smirk, and then finally a smile. The smile would grow until the sides of his face had been stretched to its full limits, and he'd then take her into his arms and laugh and cry into the base of her neck, holding tight.

She let out a sob, although did her best to hold it back just in case someone has there, ready to come into her room and surprise her- something the ginger haired boy- Ronald- had taken to doing after he had come that one time, finding her in that state of mind. That horrified look in his eyes when he had seen her was still quite memorable and unforgettable, although she did her best to pretend that she enjoyed his company in her time of much need. He'd bring flowers and fix whatever had been thrown recently, kiss her forehead, hold a conversation for as long as his Attention Deficit Disorder didn't take complete control immediately and caused him to be uncomfortable while she did her best to explain her way through her actions. He never was one to like listening to anyone, let alone her, unlike Harry…

Unlike… Harry…

Another sob took control of her entire being, and she couldn't quite hold this one tight inside of her like she had the other one. Memories of the emerald eyed wizard haunted her now, like an ongoing movie that ceased to stop where it was going, and it wouldn't ever stop at her command- it never did anything but play, and she hated her photographic memory for this very reason.

_He was watching her again, but it wasn't as uncomfortable as it had been when Viktor Krum had done so back in her fourth year. In fact, it felt extremely enjoyable, although she would be the last to admit that in a room where most of her classmates seemed to be watching them like hawks grazing in a field of mice. Instead of moving over to him and showing him just how much she enjoyed how he watched her, she risen the book she had taken up reading up to her face, hiding that secret smile that he knew she had on her face._

_He could always read her like that, she knew, and it felt wonderful to have that knowledge, since all other things that were in her brain seemed little compared to that little joyful moment. Everything that concerned him- from the way he trailed his kisses from her neck down to her thigh, the way his hands held her body in the middle of the night, when all was calm and quiet, and the way he'd smile at her before his name became the only thing that could ever exit her lips- seemed to be on her mind, and nothing could ever make it stop. Although, it wasn't as if she really wanted it to- it was quite the opposite of it, considering the fact that the current charms teacher at the school seemed to have caught her in a moment of slipping into her daydreams._

_And then the memory of how her beloved had apologized to her many times over caused her cheeks only to blush, remembering the feel of his skin against hers, and the ways his heart seemed louder when beating in sync with hers._

"_Hermione?" he asked her aloud, a smirk (oh how she loved that smirk of his) upon his lips, which were now the object her eyes had found immediately. She could tell that the students who were still there were listening, but that was because all conversations and everything else had all ceased from continuing. "Could you look over my notes for potions? You always take better ones than I do…"_

_Smiling at him, she nodded and allowed him to scoot in closer to her like he usually did when notes weren't always what he wanted. But, as it seemed, it was what their peers believed he wanted and that was all they needed before the usual groan and shuffling of returning to their own work surrounded them._

_But the two secret lovers had shared only one glance before their hands had come together in the tight space between their legs, his overlapping their hands so not to alert anyone that something might've been occurring over than the usual playfulness they had. It wasn't THAT unusual to find him teasing him like he usually did, sometimes trapping her limbs beneath them, like so many other things she could remember being caught within him…_

_Inhaling sharply, a blush upon her cheeks, she looked down to the notes that he had given her in hopes to have his notions understood. At first glance, they had seemed like an other useless pages of wordings that had something or other that had to do with liquids and what temperature was needed to heat a potion named the Potion of Ecstasy- one that was known very well for charming both men and women (usually muggle) into the beds of wizards and witches. It didn't take much of a mind to understand that he was probably hiding something underneath the notes, and that there was something for her eyes only. Tapping it with her pointer finger very gently, saying the words 'Incartium Laveista Obstrusity' in her mind alone (practice, she'd say to those who would ask her what she was attempting), and the words on the paper became very clear to her immediately._

"_Meet me in the Room of Requirement after hours, when everyone is asleep in their beds? I'll make it promising… -Harry"_

_It was hidden behind the text, and very smartly done considering the fact that every beginning letter in each word had been placed in a sentence that had the same scheme. It had been said to her by her teachers once that the closest the words were beneath the faux note, the stronger the spell was on the paper, only granting sight to the one who was wished to see it- so, in other words, this made sure that only she saw it while others believed it to be something entirely different. But, still, she was proud of him for doing his work so well, so… she might as well reward him for it…_

"_Harry, these notes seem… hasty and quick." Of course, she had to seem like she was reprimanding him, just so throw off the bloodhounds who shifted to and fro throughout the room, their ears still listening although not as well as before. "I do believe that you should rewrite them, but… I know that you will need help when doing this." Her hand moved to comb the strand of hair she had been watching him stare at the entire time, knowing that he was holding back just how he wished to push it aside, biting her lower lip as she stared directly at him. She knew that he was taking her words as a "no" to the question that he had asked without words, and she personally was having fun teasing him like she was. "But… How about we move over to my quarters later on, after hours? You can study for that test you have, and I can be your tutor."_

"_Studying!" he repeated, flabbergasted, staring at her with a face that showed surprise but with eyes that showed great interest. He knew exactly what she had planned, and he knew exactly how to shove interest in their very own relationship away from prying eyes. "But… I have practice tomorrow! How will the team take it that their captain is sleeping in late because he spent the entire night studying for some bloody test?"_

_She watched her beloved with a smirk on her face, knowing that she was right even though they weren't even about to study for the exam like they were pretending to bicker about. Standing before him now, the young woman with cinnamon colored hair placed her hands at her hips. Personally, she was having a lot of fun cosplaying events that would lead to much more exciting events later on. "What's more important, Harry James Potter? Your grade or your broom?"_

"_My broom!" he told her with a wide smile and a glint in his eyes, and it was all too evident that he did not mean the wooden one that he rode during his matches._

_She tried to hold back the laughter that had bombarded her all at once from that one comment, and she was doing her best to look stern while facing him like she was. "Harry!" she reprimanded with a glare, her hands still upon her lips, still applied angrily. It was time to play dirty… "Fine! Go grease your bloody Firebolt all by yourself if you have such a problem with studying with me."_

_Immediately, Hermione swore she had seen the largest mass of fear in his eyes at one time, and she wanted to just burst out laughing once more. It was his turn to try and make all things right between them, and she was going to play this up for as long as she could, for teasing him had become such a fun game to her. As she turned to leave him be, he did what she had expected him to do- pop up from his seat and take a hold of her wrist, stopping her from leaving him there. "Hermione… don't be like this… I… Fine, I'll study. Just… don't be mad. Please."_

_Once again, she watched as the attention of one and all in their commonroom return to the two of them from the corner of her eye, knowing that they were deciding when to place in their bets at the betting pool she had found out that they were having long ago. "Fine. Go… go get your research materials, and I will make sure that you are orally understanding of each and every thing that you have so hasty written down as your notes." She gave him a secret smile that told him that he might be getting a very go present that night, and that last sentence gave him a lot of hope as to what if might've been._

_She hadn't ever seen him move as fast as she had that night._

Her heart yearned for him, like it had for all of this time for so long now. It had seemed almost like a dream- a horrible, horrible dream, but still a figment of her imagination. But… she knew better than that, having lived her life like she had for all this time, after watching him fall to his death like she had.

Her mind turned back to her unborn child, her fingertips moving atop her flat stomach almost numbly it seemed. It seemed to be so unfair of God to do this to a soul that hadn't even been brought to life, and she didn't even seem to mind that it wasn't unfair to her either. It was her motherly instincts, although not yet understandable to her at the moment, that were giving her this thought, her motherly instincts that made her want to cry for her baby and not herself.

God, although her Lord Almighty since she had been but a child herself, and Jesus, her savoir since before she had been cursed to live the life of a woman in love, seemed to hate her now, and her faith in Him seemed to dwindle as each day would pass, adding onto her pain and sorrow.

She had been so close to having happiness, only to have it snatched away from her- as if she were a kitten playing with an ever retreating string that God loved to pull. Things just weren't fair…

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**Orokid**: _Heh heh… I felt like writing this while in Florida, and I finally just got back- and so, I'm posting it. Lol. Hope you guys like it, even though it's most likely worse than the other chapter. Eh… I just know my style, and writing the second chapter to one-shots aren't my best area of talent. Just hope it's okay._

_Please review for me! I'll give you a cookie…_


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